


Impertinence

by millenial_falcon



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Deepthroating, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Pre-Canon, Semi-Public Sex, ridiculous temple boys and their even more ridiculous libidos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 15:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11293383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millenial_falcon/pseuds/millenial_falcon
Summary: Chirrut refuses to let a moment of heavy grappling with Baze go unresolved by the minor inconvenience of approximately one dozen of their peers nearly walking in on them.





	Impertinence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaboomslang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaboomslang/gifts).



> a very belated birthday present

“Chirrut, I  _ swear! _ ” Baze hisses, fists bunching in the shoulders of Chirrut's robes, only half-heartedly holding him at bay. Just beyond the wall at his back, Baze can hear the murmur of the seventh levels warming up. An entire class of their elders, unwitting to the fact they had only narrowly avoided walking in on the heated grappling their sparring devolved into these days. Chirrut mercifully had the awareness to haul them to cover, just barely. But Chirrut is now quickly undoing that grace by way of continuing his assault on Baze's person, hands groping and feeling their way all down Baze's sides.

 

“Do you promise?” he asks, voice low and bubbly and searing the skin of Baze’s throat. His lips chase after the sound, map a trail up the column of his neck until they find an earlobe to nibble on. Baze shivers at the feeling, swallows, grips the neat swell of Chirrut’s biceps, nonplussed by his question. “You're always so quiet,” elaborates into the soft spot behind his ear, hot and teasing, pressed with an excited urgency. “Will this make you swear for me?”

 

One of the masters is speaking, corralling the trainees in the main room to attention, and Chirrut's hands are settling on his hips, pawing at the soft lower half of his belly, groping down to trace the vague outline of Baze's cock. They are one wandering acolyte from being discovered and Baze pulls a deep, shuddering breath for the way that knowledge makes him sharp and alert, makes electricity crackle under Chirrut's light, trailing touch.

 

“Chirrut,” he whispers helplessly, hushed and fervent, chastising and desperate. Chirrut giggles quietly into his shoulder. He's palming the tops of Baze's thighs, thumbs smoothing eager up and down their inward curves, along the edges of where his erection is tenting the front of his clothes. A choked gasp jumps from Baze's lips when Chirrut splays his hands wide, grabs him by the hips and pulls so that his body melds flush up the length of Baze's. For just a moment all he can focus on is the way Chirrut nearly straddles his thigh, grinds his dick into the soft give of him there, the way one leg slips between both of Baze's and presses gentle pressure right up against his balls. Chirrut's hands skip up over folds of loose cloth, clutch at his sides, and his breath breaks in happy little pants over Baze's cheek and throat as he nips along the roundness of his jaw.

 

“You can just say my name too,” he teases, grinning at the corner of Baze's mouth. The hint of a growl in his private, irreverent tone sends heat down Baze's spine when he adds, “That definitely works.”

 

Flustered and frustrated, Baze shoves Chirrut by the shoulders in some awkward attempt at distraction, flushing when Chirrut uses it as an excuse to drop right to his knees with a groan. “ _ Chirrut! _ ” he wheezes, consonants sharp and agonizingly audible against the backs of his teeth. His stomach seems to drop all the way to his toes and his eyes go wide in mortified horror as he wrenches them away from the sight of Chirrut flipping up his robes and ducking under them without preamble. With a too loud thud, Baze tips his head back against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut, swallowing harsh. He hears Chirrut's snicker, muffled under the skirt of his robes, hot against his trousers. Inhaling shakily through his mouth, Baze tucks his chin to his shoulder and listens carefully to the training continuing unperturbed mere feet and the most tenuous line of sight away from them.

 

Every agonizing second scrapes over his nerves, brings them that much closer to the chance of being caught. Somewhat to his credit, Chirrut doesn't tease or hesitate in the slightest. His fingers pluck clever at the waist of his pants, lips following to press kisses along the strip of skin they expose, down the line of his pelvis until he's mouthing eagerly at the base of Baze's dick. A tight hiss escapes Baze at the hint of clumsy roughness in the way Chirrut tugs the rest of him free, tucks the waist of his trousers just barely down his thighs, right under his balls. Chirrut's lips skim up him, catch wet over his skin, tripping light before they wrap around the head of his cock and Chirrut sinks as far onto him as he can go in one swift swallow.

 

The sudden hot, wet sheath of his mouth and the soft press of the back of his throat yanks a groan from Baze's chest before he can help it. He immediately bites his fist to stifle himself, whispers a curse against his knuckles, fear of discovery ringing in the rush of blood in his ears. Another giggle comes from under his robes, this time reverberating down through his dick, and Baze staggers a little in his lean against the wall. Chirrut bobs on him, a string of short, efficient strokes that make the tight seal of his lips catch over the crown of Baze's cock. His fingers follow, wrapped around the neglected length of his shaft that he can't quite swallow, curling soothingly around his head when Chirrut pulls off him entirely. In a busy rustle of cloth, Chirrut wiggles his head out from under Baze's robes.

 

“I can't hear you,” he declares, petulant and far too loud for Baze's liking. Baze shoves the heel of his palm against Chirrut's face with an annoyed grunt.

 

“Neither can they,” he hisses, throat thick with the feel of Chirrut's fingers sliding over his spit-slick skin. “You want us to get caught?”

 

A jackal grin splits Chirrut's face and down the arched curve of his spine Baze sees his ass bounce with the little pent up wriggle that passes through him. Exasperated, Baze smothers the folds of his robes over that expression with a sharp flick. Muffled cackling replies, Chirrut burrowing back under the fabric to meet the hand still working his cock. Lips close soft around his head, suckling at him, Chirrut's tongue dancing clever over his frenulum. With a soft huff warding off a groan, Baze brings his hand to rest on the swell of Chirrut's head under his skirts. A happy little hum shivers down his dick, chased by Chirrut's lips, by the warmth of the breath it releases through his nose. The air in Baze's lungs goes heavy and he braces back against the wall as Chirrut sinks down on him. He tips his head back, listens tight and paranoid for any change in the flow of their peers training just beyond sight. Chirrut shifts under his palm, readjusts his angle, punches the breath right out of Baze's chest as he gulps his way further down his length.

 

Chirrut's tongue lolls against the underside of Baze's cock, wet with drool and sliding flat past his lower lip to give room to the thickness of his shaft. Panting breath washes over his base, warms the wiry clutch of his pubic hair there as Chirrut sheathes his head in throat. Muscles, gripping and sucking, draw him into Chirrut's hard swallow and for one gasping, senseless moment Baze follows, hips jerking forward, hands clutching at the back of Chirrut's covered head. A strangled, delighted moan coils itself around his cock, snakes down towards his balls along the spasmodic flex of Chirrut's tongue cradling his weight. With startled, desperate urgency, Baze grips Chirrut's hair through the fall of his robes, yanks him off his dick, gasping a ragged curse.

 

A scraped raw peal of laughter bursts over his skin. “Chirrut,  _ fuck! _ ” Baze fails to articulate anything useful. Smiling lips press plush to the head of his cock, part to place lapping kisses all down his length.

 

“I got you to,” Chirrut snickers triumphant, too loud, too wonderfully hot against his skin, and Baze, too caught up to chastise him coherently, instead slides his hands over the curve of Chirrut's head under his robes and pushes rough back into his mouth. Another moan, surprised and giddy, welcomes him, makes Baze stagger. Chirrut lunges into his thrust, embraces him, shoulders falling slack, arms wrapping around his thighs, curling up over his butt, palms resting against the small of his back. He pulls Baze in to a deep, wet plunge down his opened throat, swallows tight and rippling, groans low.

 

Hunkered over him, Baze catches the roll of Chirrut's hips as he fidgets atop his folded knees, fingers clutching into the soft dip of Baze's back. Another gulp sets Baze jerking, his lungs clenching. The rumbling whine of Chirrut's voice feeds the heat and hairline tension drawing his balls tight. He bites back the harsh moan that rushes from him and grasps at the solid curve of Chirrut's head, whispers an urgent warning to him that only passes his lips as, “Chirrut, fuckfuck _ fuck! _ ”

 

Chirrut interprets deftly, draws him from the hot wrap of his throat with one long, sucking pull that drags the thread of Baze's arousal with it taut until it snaps under the playful dart of his tongue over his slit, the velvety ring of his lips fit perfectly around his crown. Baze throws his head back, spurts against Chirrut's palate with a relieved moan, hits the wall conspicuously noisy. The fear of exposure spikes alongside his orgasm, trips into it, tangles, makes him groan too loud as he coats Chirrut's mouth with his cum. His hands are clutched knuckle tight in his robes, his hips held still under Chirrut's hands as he bobs his head, laves his tongue and Baze's own jizz over his skin, leaches every bit of orgasm from him until he's shuddering. Chirrut hums as he swallows, sucks one last pull of Baze's dick with a noisy, wet pop. As Baze sags against the support of the wall, dazed and wrung out, Chirrut flurries his way out from under his robes. Baze watches curiously as Chirrut cocks his head, then scrambles to his feet with a sharp, “Shit!”

 

For a moment, hazy and slow in the wake of orgasm, Baze merely stares down at the fingers Chirrut wraps around his wrist. Then, laughing, Chirrut gives him a full body shake by the arm.

 

“Someone heard you, you dork!” Chirrut snickers, tugging at his hand urgently. His eyes are sheened bright, his face flushed, his lips swollen enticingly. He is also very blatantly still hard and so Baze stumbles after him, trying to hitch his trousers up over his still sensitive cock as they escape discovery, follows him on to the next barely private hideaway to return Chirrut his attention.


End file.
